


Stay With Me

by marvelandimagine



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: F/M, Friends to Lovers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-28
Updated: 2016-03-28
Packaged: 2018-05-29 18:17:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,086
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6387373
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/marvelandimagine/pseuds/marvelandimagine
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Bucky x reader. Bucky and reader go out on a mission but she almost doesn't make it back.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Stay With Me

“Y/N!”

It’s like the world stops for a second. You didn’t hear the click of the gun that since bullets ripping through your flesh, but Bucky’s scream of your name rings loud and clear through the din of harsh shouts in foreign tongues; the smell of blood and gunpowder mingling in the cold air.

You clutch your side instinctively, dazed by the sight of dark red pooling through the dark fabric of your jacket. You hold your hand in front of your face, vision starting to blur as you realize that the red is spreading all throughout the front of your chest as well.

And for that split second, you don’t feel anything.

But that split second ends and then the pain takes hold, dropping you to your knees as you let out an unearthly scream that you can’t even recognize as your own; you can’t possibly be in that much pain, you can’t be shot, you can’t be dying here on this frozen forest ground …

You’re shaking as you grit your teeth, trying to put pressure on your wounds, but there’s so much red in your field of vision that you don’t know where to even begin. Panic sets in and your breathing starts to become shallow as you desperately try to prop yourself up on your elbows and fail.

As your head hits the ground, you hear another scream, but it’s not your own.

“NO!”

The world around you is getting fuzzier and you blink furiously, hope filling your chest and lungs as you see Bucky sprinting toward you.

Your head lolls back into his lap as his hands run across your blood-soaked body, trying to find where the bullets went in and if they came out.

“Hey, Y/N, doll, I need you to stay with me, OK? We’re gonna get you out of here, you’re going to be fine. But you need to stay awake with me, alright?”

You know him well enough to know he’s trying to mask it, but the way his voice shakes under his soothing tone betrays his fear and it scares you more than the pain searing through your body.

He clicks a button on his wrist, his voice fierce and urgent. “Clint, we need the chopper NOW. Y/N’s hit bad and she’s fading.”

““Bucky, I’m sorry, I wasn’t - should have heard them coming,” you whisper hoarsely, your face contorting as he presses down on an entry point on your chest and you cry out.

“Hey, shhhh, none of that, OK? It wasn’t your fault. I should’ve been protecting you. I’m right here, you’re going to be fine. You’re going to be fine.”

He repeats the phrase like a prayer; like if he says it enough times, it’ll come true.

Your vision continues to swim and you pour all your effort into focusing on Bucky. His blue grey eyes, the way his brown hair falls in his face. You grimace as you reach out to trace a finger down the stubble on his jawline, savoring the way he feels under your touch. You don’t know if you’ll ever have this chance again.

His eyes widen with surprise and affection at your touch and he grabs your fingers softly, intertwining them with his right hand as he gazes down at you. he blinks rapidly and cups your face in his hand.

“Y/N, I’m right here. I’ve got you, you’re going to be fine,” he declares firmly, forcing a smile that doesn’t fully reach his eyes, eyes that are now shining with the thought of losing you.

“Bucky,” you murmur softly, fighting to keep the hot tears building in your eyes from spilling over and failing. “I need - I need to tell you - I - you - don’t go, stay” you mumble incoherently.

Before Bucky responds, he’s got you scooped up in his arms and he’s running toward the distant sound of a chopper. 

The last thing you remember before blacking out is Bucky’s voice echoing in the confined space of the helicopter, his hands clasped together in front of his mouth as he whispers furiously.

“She can’t die. She can’t die.”

-

You awake to the sound of beeping of monitors, the steady drip of an IV. But what really draws you back into full consciousness are the voices: low, soothing tones that seem to be trying to console the angry one coming from outside your door.

“Bucky, I know you want to see her, but what she needs right now is rest.” Bruce’s voice is steady and gentle, almost like a lullaby. “And after what you went through today, I think you could use some too.”

“Dammit, Bruce, I don’t need sleep, I need to know she’s ok,” Bucky snaps, his hostile tone leaving Bruce taking one small step backward and sending a pang of remorse through the ex-assassin. The anger fades from his voice, replaced by a quiet anxiety and tenderness.

“I’m sorry, Bruce, I just … I can’t sleep knowing she’s in here anyway. And I need to be there when she wakes up. I’ll wait all night if I have to, I don’t care. Just let me see her.”

Bruce sighs and opens his mouth to protest, but sensing a limit to Bucky’s patience, you summon what strength you have left and call out quietly: “Let him in, Bruce.”

Both men jump at the sudden sound of your voice and you have to smile at the way Bucky slips past Bruce immediately, striding across the room and coming to your bedside.

“Y/N,” he murmurs with relief, pulling up a chair and sitting down next to your bed. “How - how are you feeling?”

You make a face, looking wearily at all the bandages on your chest – some sprinkled with red – and the myriad of tubes taped onto your arms.

“Like I’ve been shot by a bunch of Russians and flooded with a Magical Mystery Tour cocktail of narcotics,” you deadpan, shaking your arm in amazement before you wave Bucky off and shift yourself upright with a loud hiss.

You rub your eyes and sigh before turning your gaze onto Bucky. Your heart sinks as you take in his red-rimmed eyes, the fact that he’s still in his bloodstained tac gear. The shadows in his countenance are more profound than ever.

His eyes lock on yours as you murmur apologetically: “Buck, I -”

You’re cut off as Bruce sidles over, commenting on your previous joke.

“Well at least the Russians didn’t get your sense off humor,” Bruce says with a warm smile, sliding over to your opposite side. Your gaze flickers from Bucky and back to Bruce and you inhale deeply, deciding that you’ll deal with the twinging in your chest later.

You force a smile in response.

“Nah, just half of my blood.”

You wince suddenly and clutch at your chest as a sharp pain shoots through your front. Bucky’s hand is on your shoulder immediately and you close your eyes at the touch, trying hard to fight the urge to reach up and coax your fingers into his. Not in front of Bruce, anyways.

Bruce points to your bandages and asks politely, “May I?”

You nod and Bucky removes his fingers from your shoulder slowly, grazing them for an instant gently against your exposed skin. The moment passes but you will it not to, clinging to the building warmth in your chest.

Bruce presses his own fingers lightly against your ribcage and you bite your lip to suppress the growl that threatens to escape from your lips. You blink up at the ceiling as Bruce continues to examine you.

“What’s the damage report?”

Bruce pauses for a second, eyes flickering to Bucky before he continues.

“3 bullets, one to your shoulder, two in your abdomen. The shoulder wound was clean, so that was easy enough to stitch up, but the internal bleeding from the shot to your stomach and all the crushed tissue was … it was pretty touch and go with you, for a bit, but you’re alive, so that’s what matters. But you won’t be Avengering for awhile. You need a long time to recover.”

You stare up at the ceiling with a long exhale as a numbness settles over you. You’re so grateful to be alive, but to be out of the field, out of training … it’s going to take some time to get used to.

You manage to smile anyways and nod at Bruce. “It’s going to suck, but at least I’m still here. Thank you. Bruce.”

He nods, clearing his throat and motioning toward the door.

“I’m going to try to get in a nap, but if you need anything, just get Jarvis to wake me up.”

“I’ll look after her,” Bucky says firmly, eliciting a small smile from Bruce.

“I’m sure you will. Just if anything medical goes wrong, you know where to find me.”

He turns to you. “Try to get some rest, Y/N.”

“I will. Really, thank you for everything.”

Bruce smiles once more before shutting the door quietly. As soon as you hear it shut, you turn to Bucky.

“I’m so sorry, Buck. I could’ve got us both killed … I fucked the mission up … I don’t get why you’re still here with me,” you whisper sadly.

Bucky inches his chair closer to your bedside, loosely taking one of your hands in his. “I thought I almost lost you, Y/N.” He shakes his head, eyes downcast. “And that … that fear, that pain of not knowing if I could keep you alive, if I’d ever get to talk to you again … ever see you smile or hear you laugh … it just threw everything into focus. That I don’t know what I’d do without you here,” he says simply, his blue grey eyes looking up to meet yours.

You sit silently for a second before you extend your arm tentatively, brushing your fingers tenderly through Bucky’s brown hair.

His expression changes to one you can’t quite explain, but it gives you the push you need.

“Can you come up here with me?” You tilt your head to the empty space along your side and feel your heartbeat quicken as Bucky nods and walks around the bed.

He sits himself awkwardly at first, perched on the edge of the bed, earning a sincere chuckle from you.

You tug at his hand shyly and as he moves closer with a small smile, you bring him into a hug, burying your face in his chest as his arms wrap around you.

“You were the reason I held on, Buck,” you say softly into his neck, and he pulls back to look at you, arms still around your waist.

“I remember you talking to me, you called me doll. You were so sweet and steady … and I was so scared too. Scared that I’d never see you again. I tried to tell you that, how much you mean to me, but I know I blacked out. So I’m telling you now. Because … I don’t know what I’d do without you either. Buck, you were the reason I held on.”

Your heart is pounding in your chest as Bucky’s eyes flicker to your lips and before you can take a breath, his lips are on yours and nothing else in the world matters.

His lips taste so good, so warm; the comfort of a hot shower after a rainstorm. You wrap your hands around his neck to bring him even closer, your mouths starting to work together more urgently before a pain in your side takes over and gets you to stop reluctantly.

You keep your forehead on Bucky’s, though, a dizzying sensation that has nothing to do with narcotics flooding through you at the hungry look in his eyes, the way his chest is rising and falling.

“I didn’t want to stop, trust me, but bullet hole number 2 thought otherwise,” you murmur and Bucky smiles gently before kissing your forehead.

“Damn bullet hole number 2.”

You laugh and Bucky brings you to lay on his chest, stroking your hair adoringly.

You tilt your head up at him, heart still racing as you run a hand down his regular arm.

“Will you stay with me?”

Bucky smiles earnestly and kisses your forehead once more, his gentle murmur of, “Always,” the last thing you hear before you’re lulled to sleep by the peaceful contentment of finally, consciously, being in his arms and knowing that neither of you will ever leave each other’s sides .


End file.
